


It Is What It Is

by Telesilla



Series: This Is My Kingdom Come [1]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Baseball, Dom/sub, First Time, Humiliation, M/M, Painplay, chiaroscuro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:38:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>This, apparently, is it. Brandon's finally showed up on Posey's radar and he's half terrified and half looking forward to whatever happens next.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Is What It Is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darkrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkrose/gifts).



> For Darkrose, because nothing says, "Happy Birthday, Sweetie!" like porn set in a universe full of dysfunctional power exchanges.

__

_Spring Training 2012_

__

All Brandon wants is to take a shower and get off and he's happily considering combining the two as he opens the door to his suite. A lot of guys either rent apartments or room together during Spring Training, but Brandon finds it easier to just stay in the hotel. He lucked out, he figures, because the shower here is....

"Jesus!" he blurts out. He almost backs into the wall behind him because seriously, what the hell is Buster Posey doing sitting in Brandon's small living room like it was his?

"Look at you," Posey says. "What a whore."

And isn't that just like Posey--no "hi" or "hey, Belt," just an insult designed to humiliate Brandon and put him in his place. Posey had talked down to him a few times in 2011, but that year had been strange for both of them and he'd never done anything more. Brandon actually thinks it's weird that Posey's never come after him. Brandon's the team slut and it's Posey's team, even now. You'd think....

"Nah," Brandon says, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "I don't charge, so that makes me more of a slut."

"Funny." Posey gets to his feet and comes over to stand in front of Brandon. If the difference in height bothers him, you wouldn't know it. He wrinkles his nose. "You stink. Go shower."

"Okay." It's not like Brandon doesn't know he smells and if he'd actually cared, he could have done more that just mop off his face before coming back to his suite. But Vogey's suite is only a floor down and Brandon took the stairs, so there wasn't much of a risk getting caught with come drying in his hair and on his shirt. And it's not like anyone aside from a few non-roster invitees would be surprised if they did catch him.

"Don't do anything stupid in there." Posey smiles tightly. "Like jack off."

"Okay," Brandon says again before heading toward the bathroom. In spite of doing his best to act like this isn't anything unusual, his heart's pounding in his chest. This, apparently, is it. He's finally showed up on Posey's radar and he's half terrified and half looking forward to whatever happens next. 

He showers as quickly and thoroughly as possible. He takes a quick moment after to brush his teeth and contemplates shaving, but no, that'll just look like he's stalling. Which he isn't. Well, not really. He'd rather Posey had picked another night, but he's pretty sure Posey's timing is as deliberate as everything else Posey does.

He doesn't bother to wrap a towel around his waist or put on his bathrobe, and when he walks back into the living room stark naked, Posey nods at him. "Well, at least you know enough to stay naked." 

"I'm not completely stupid." Brandon regrets it almost immediately, but still, he's not some rookie kid or confused journeyman new to the team. He knows what this is about.

"Yeah you are or you'd know better than to talk to me like that."

"Sorry," Brandon says.

"So, are you scared and hiding it? Or are you too dumb to be afraid?"

"Doing my best to hide it," Brandon says.

Posey smiles at that and gestures for Brandon to turn around. Brandon does, slowly, until he's facing Posey again. he hasn't blushed in years, but he can feel his face getting a little hot.

"Does Vogey always use his fists?"

"Usually, but sometimes he'll use his belt." Vogey used an acrylic rod on Brandon a couple times last year. It was awesome, but it left welts that made it hard to play ball. After the second time, Brandon had to ask him to either go a little lighter or do something else.

Vogey hadn't bothered with the belt or anything else tonight; he'd just pulled on a pair of lightly padded gloves and gone to town on Brandon's ass, thighs and biceps. Brandon's already half hard just from the situation and now, as he thinks of the way Vogey hurt him, he gets even harder.

"I take it he doesn't let you come?"

It's pretty obvious, but Brandon just shakes his head. "I usually don't get off with him. I don't think he does it to..for control or to put me in my place. I just think he's just selfish and doesn't care once he's done."

"And you don't mind?""

Brandon does, actually, but he does his best not to show it. "I can get off on my own, after."

"Yeah, no." Posey steps forward. "You do mind. And will you mind if I don't let you get off?"

"Yeah," Brandon admits. "But...."

"But?" Posey asks after a second. 

"But at least with you...you have a reason, don't you? I mean, you'd do it to make me uncomfortable or because you like the idea of leaving me like that or to make a point."

Posey tilts his head a little. "You think I care?"

After thinking about it for a moment, Brandon frowns a little. "About me? Not really. But you think about what you're doing and when you do something, you have a reason to do it."

"You're going to be...interesting." Posey reaches out and pushes hard on one of Brandon's bruises. All Brandon does is hiss a little at the quick flare of pain. "You're more self-aware than most of my boys and you're the first boy who knows something about me at the beginning."

Oh shit, Brandon thinks. This is a lot worse than he thought.

"Yeah, that scares you a little, doesn't it?" Posey presses harder and Brandon catches his breath. "Here's how it works. From here on out, you stop fucking around. You're with someone else, it's because I either told you to or allowed it. Got it?"

"Yeah," Brandon says and then he can't help frowning.

"You have a problem with that"

"Um...what about Brandon?"

"Crawford? Your puppy?" Posey's scowling and Brandon can't help remembering the things Crawford told him about his nights with Posey. How they were never on the same page and how much that pissed Posey off. "He kind of needs you to function, doesn't he?"

"No," Brandon says doing his best to hide his irritation. It's not like Crawford can't get by in the world by himself. "But it helps. Whenever I was down in Fresno, we talked almost every night." What he's not going to say--and he hopes he can hide this from Posey--is that being with Crawford helps him too.

The problem is, they need Crawford even more than they need Brandon himself and Posey clearly knows that. "Fine," he snaps. "But don't fuck him. You can pet him and feed him Milk Bones or whatever the hell it is you do with him, but you want to fuck him? You ask me. Got it?"

The thing--the scary thing--about Posey is that while Brandon knows he could fuck Crawford without Posey knowing, he also knows he won't. "Yeah," he says. And then, because Posey seems to expect something else, he adds, "thank you."

"Hmmmm...." 

Posey leans forward and presses his fingers to one of the bruises on Brandon's biceps. "And you can play like this?"

"Yeah."

"Really play? Or were bruises the reason you sucked last year?"

"Bruises," Brandon says through gritted teeth, "had nothing to do with it."

"Still," Posey says, stroking Brandon's bruise. "I won't fuck you up to the point where you can't play."

It's not really Posey's decision and they both know it, but Brandon still feels like it's a good idea to say, "thank you."

"Are you always this well-behaved?"

"Um...I'm kind of minding my manners." He gets the feeling that Posey's not entirely happy about that. 

"You're that scared of me?"

Brandon resists the urge to give Posey a "well duh" look. "Yeah," he says instead. "I am."

"Good," Posey says and shoves his thumb hard against the bruise on Brandon's arm. It hurts and Brandon hisses again, but it feels good too. He can't help leaning toward Posey, just a little.

"You," Posey says, "are going to be an interesting challenge." It's the second time Posey's said something like that and Brandon can't help the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. If all Posey wanted was someone to dominate and knock around, that would be one thing. But Posey's not like Vogey and he's not stupid; the idea of him trying to figure Brandon out is kind of scary.

"For now, though," Posey says after pressing on the bruise again. "I want you on your knees."

"Okay," Brandon says. As he goes down, he looks up at Posey. "Is it...I mean, do you want me to call you...I dunno, sir or something?"

"What? No," Posey says with a little laugh. "What if I'd said yes?"

"Then I'd do it."

"Huh. What else would you do if I told you to?"

Brandon's not sure how to answer that. "Um...I guess it depends on what it was. Pretty much anything, though."

"No," Posey says. He reaches down and slaps Brandon hard--a blow that would have rocked Brandon back on his heels if he hadn't seen it coming. As it is, the pain just makes his dick harder. "You're wrong. You do anything and everything I tell you to. Got it?"

"Yes," Brandon says, biting his lip. His face stings and he's trying not to think about the things Posey might do to him.

Posey stares down at Brandon for a minute and then reaches down and unbuckles his belt. "Go on then."

"Hands?" Brandon asks as he undoes Posey's fly. "Or mouth?"

"You're already drooling for it, aren't you?" Posey says with a sneer.

"It's up to you, but yeah."

"I thought you were minding your manners."

By the time Brandon's figured it out, Posey's tapping his finger on his thigh.

"Please," Brandon says as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip. "Please let me blow you."

"Why should I?"

Because it's a fucking blowjob, Brandon thinks. He knows better than to say something about how he gives great head, but really, who the fuck turns down a blowjob from someone with Brandon's reputation? He takes a second to think about how Posey's been trying to humiliate him.

"Because I'm a cocksucking slut and my mouth's yours now." Again, he can feel his face get hot because...okay because, apparently he can still be humiliated. "Please, please let me suck your cock."

The hard, thick bulge of Posey's dick is pressing against his shorts and when Brandon licks his lips again, it's not for show.

"Oh fine," Posey says. "Wrap that pretty mouth around it and you damn well better be able to take it all. C'mon, boy. Impress me."

Brandon starts with his lips and tongue, carefully noting each spot that makes Posey shiver or breathe hard. It's not easy, Posey's quiet and mostly still and when Brandon looks up to gauge his reaction, Posey glares at him.

"Eyes down."

Huh, Brandon thinks as he stares at the rough trail of hair on Posey's stomach. That's weird, but he's not going to let it slow him down. He closes his eyes and goes back to work, licking and sucking just a little.

Finally, when he's got Posey's dick slick enough, he takes a deep breath and slides his mouth down. Posey's pretty big, but Brandon's sucked bigger dicks than this and after another moment, he's got it all. He swallows around the head and then pulls back. Setting up a nice slow rhythm, he gets serious about it, using his tongue when he can and sucking hard the whole time.

Above him, Posey's breathing picks up and Brandon can't help a little mental smile when he feels Posey's body shift like he's making sure he doesn't lose his balance. Yup, Brandon thinks, speeding up just a little, he's still got it. Any minute, Posey's gonna reach down and....

The minute he feels Posey's hand land heavily on the back of his neck, Brandon takes in a big lungful of air. Sure enough, Posey holds him in place while he shoves his dick into Brandon's mouth. It's hard and rough and so, so fucking good. Brandon keeps his eyes closed tight, breathes as much as he can and just lets Posey use his mouth.

"Fuck," Posey mutters a few moments later and that's warning enough. Brandon swallows hard and keeps swallowing as Posey comes with a soft grunt. Finally, Posey takes a couple steps back and sits down on the chair behind him. 

Brandon keeps his eyes on the floor, but he knows Posey's looking at him as he licks a little smear of come from the side of his mouth.

"Not bad," Posey says.

Fuck him, Brandon thinks. His mouth feels a little swollen and his jaw aches a little and Posey's still breathing hard and just...fuck Posey. Brandon knows damn well he was better than "not bad," fuck you very much.

"Manners," Posey says after another moment. 

"Thank you," Brandon says and yeah, his voice is a little hoarse. "Thank you for letting me suck you off."

"Buster," Posey says. "You can use my name when you'd normally say...sir or some shit like that. Got it?"

"Yes, Buster."

"Look at me," Posey says. "You wanna get off, don't you?"

"Please," Brandon says. "Please let me."

"Not bad," Posey says again. "Do the bruises still hurt?"

"Only when I move."

"So you're telling me that," Posey nudges Brandon's dick with the toe of his shoe. "That's just from having my dick in your mouth?"

"Mostly, yeah." Brandon probably should have just said yes, but he's not sure how good Posey is at figuring out lies. If he's going to get in trouble regardless, might as well be for the truth. 

Posey moves his foot a little until the toe's resting on one of the big bruises on Brandon's thigh. Even though Brandon's braced for it, he still sucks in a harsh breath as Posey pushes down.

"Okay, yeah," Posey says. "Go on."

Brandon spits into his hand and then grabs his dick. He's not going for anything fancy; he's already wound up enough that this won't take long. So he goes at it hard and fast, looking at Posey's shoe instead of at his face. He thinks he's braced for it when Posey pushes down again, but Posey's really leaning into it and it hurts.

"Ow, fuck!" Posey pauses and then presses down again and Brandon hunches over a little, because damn, that really does hurt. "Fuck fuck fuck," he groans and God he's so fucking close and there's something he needs to remember and...oh right.

"Please," he gasps out. "Please hurt me again...please let me come. Please!"

"Oh yeah," Posey says. Brandon can hardly hear him, but then Posey's bearing down on the bruise again and when he says, "yeah, do it now!" Brandon can hear him.

Given that he was just jacking off, he's surprised at how good it feels when he comes all over his hand and thighs. As he hunches over, resting his weight on one hand, he hears Posey laughing. Brandon doesn't need to see his face to know he's smirking too.

"Look at you, you filthy slut." Again, it's true and Brandon lets the insult roll off his back. He might have been embarrassed before but this is nothing new. Posey shoves at Brandon's hip with his shoe. "Go clean up. Again."

At least, Brandon thinks as he heads into the bathroom, it's his own come this time.

Posey's leaning in the bathroom doorway when Brandon's done. "Come here," he says. He pulls something out of his pocket and Brandon's eyes go wide as he sees what it is. "I like these," Posey says as he fits the chastity device onto Brandon's dick. "And before you say you can't play in one, I know that. Tomorrow, when we're suiting up, you come ask me to take it off you."

"Okay."

"Now thank me and I'll go."

"Thank you, Buster," Brandon says after a moment's thought. "For...taking me on like this."

"Good boy." Buster pats his face and then leaves.

For all that the chastity thing didn't come as a surprise--Crawford had said something about it last year--Brandon's a little surprised at how much he hates it.

* * *

"It's like, no matter what I'm doing or who I'm doing it with, it's my choice, you know?" he says to Crawford a little while later. 

They're settled in on the couch, both of them. Later Crawford will probably curl up and want to be petted, but right now, he's just leaning against Brandon while they pretend to watch ESPN.

"Yeah, only it's not anymore."

"Only it's not. And it fucking bugs me, you know? Because if he just said, 'don't come without permission,' I'd do it. I mean, sure, he'd never know if I didn't, but I'm not a fucking liar and I don't cheat." 

Crawford looks at him for a long moment. "Are you okay with this? I mean really okay?"

"Does it matter?"

"If you said no...."

"I'd be traded and no thanks; I like being a Giant."

"My question still stands then."

Brandon tips his head against the back of the sofa and thinks about it. "I'm...there's a lot I'm not wild about, okay? I don't like having this fucking thing on my dick. I really hate the way he talks about you and the way I have to fucking ask if I want to have sex with you."

"But...."

"But what he does, it's...it's good. It works for me." Sighing, he rubs the back of his neck. "We're not the best fit, really. He wants me to feel bad about being a slut, but that horse left the barn before I even met him, you know?"

"Yeah. He wanted to do the same with my crazy." Crawford shrugs. "But it is what it is and I came to grips with it ages ago."

"Thing is," Brandon says. "Thing is, what happened tonight was really really fucking hot and it's just gonna get better. He's going to hurt me, but he'll be more inventive than Vogey and I think...." 

"What"

"I think it'll be good for me. Help me focus." He's never known how to explain this to Crawford; he doesn't know how to talk about the weird need that drives him into other people's beds. For that matter, he doesn't entirely understand it himself. When he thinks about it--which he doesn't often do because self-analysis isn't really his thing--he compares it to feeling restless and twitchy, like his skin is too tight. Right now, he doesn't feel that way; after what happened tonight he feels almost calm and still.

Crawford isn't the only crazy one in the room, he thinks.

"So all in all, I'm okay with it."

Crawford gives him another long look and then, apparently satisfied with what he sees, nods. He gets up, strips down to his shorts and then hunkers down on the floor. Making a little whining noise, he looks up at Brandon, his eyes wide.

"Fine," Brandon says, patting the couch next to him. "C'mon, boy. Up here."

Brandon's still a little nervous about how things are going to go with Posey, but right now, covered in bruises and petting his puppy, he can be a little philosophical about it.

Crawford was right--it is what it is.

_-end-_


End file.
